


it once was so easy

by curseworm



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Asphyxiation, Blood, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Clay | Dream Kills TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Murder, Unhappy Ending, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Violence, he fuckin dies, no beta we die like tommy, that's it that's the fic, too soon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29792079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curseworm/pseuds/curseworm
Summary: TommyInnit was murdered by Dream.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 622





	it once was so easy

**Author's Note:**

> lots of dialogue is taken directly from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=al73_e5SylU&ab_channel=TommyVODS) video

Tommy stared down at his hands, at the dirt and soot and ash that had built up over the days he had spent in this godforsaken cell, sitting far too close to the lava cascading down the entrance in an effort to distance himself from the other occupant. He lifted his eyes to stare momentarily at the cat carcass that lay on the chest in the corner of the room, its neck wrung by his own hands. Dream had wanted to name it Patches. Tommy had ignored the request. Tommy had killed it.

Tommy laughed, and his voice rasped with the same grit that coated his skin.

“You’re a liar,” he said, shifting his gaze to look into Dream’s eyes, eyes that burned with smouldering hatred and rage. He should have seen that anger and backed away. He should have seen it and known to stay quiet. But right now, Dream’s anger was matched by a fury of his own, a blazing indignation that had built up over months of fear and manipulation and abuse, that was finally bubbling over in the form of brash words and reckless accusations. “You’re a liar and a fraud, and when I look at you I see through your netherite armour and your mask of power and… you know what I see?” Tommy advanced on Dream until they were practically standing toe-to-toe. “I see a sad little man who’s insecure about the fact that this server has gotten so far ahead of him. Whose only little glimpse of power in this world is gone.” Tommy pressed his hands against Dream’s chest and, with a powerful shove, sent the other man stumbling across the cell. “So _fuck off_ , you stupid green bitch.”

As Dream steadied himself he kept his gaze locked with Tommy’s, staring at him with an odd, terrifying sort of intensity, his head tipped to the side, his hands curling into fists. “Tommy, your life is literally in my hands,” he said quietly, dangerously. “Does that piss you off? Does that make you mad?” Tommy swallowed heavily as Dream began advancing on him. He would stand his ground. He had to stand his ground. “You _cannot_ kill me. How does that make you feel, Tommy? You can’t kill me and I can kill you.”

Tommy grit his teeth, gathered himself, pushed aside the instinctive fear that had risen, the urge to cower before Dream’s wrath. “Dream, I know you’re not gonna do shit to me. You’re not gonna kill me. Do you hear yourself?” As Dream stepped back into reach, Tommy raised his arms to shove him again. “You’re so fucking up your own ass, you self obsessed—”

Tommy was cut off with a cry as his arm was caught in an iron grip. His eyes were wide, his heartbeat loud, his breathing quick. Dream dug his nails, sharp and jagged from the months he’d been in the cell, into the fleshy underside of Tommy’s wrist. “What does that mean? If you can’t kill me and I can kill you... ” Dream twisted Tommy’s arm sharply, sending pain lancing through his wrist, forcing him to drop to the harsh obsidian ground lest his shoulder dislocate. He leaned down and hissed into Tommy’s ear, “Does that not mean that I, within the confines of this cell, am some kind of a god?”

The pain in Tommy’s arm was drowned out entirely by the terror that shot through his heart. “Shut the fuck up,” he gasped, his voice tinged with desperation. He lifted his other hand to pry at the hand gripping his wrist but was unable to make it budge. “You’re wrong, Dream, I could kill you if I wanted to. I could kill you right now.”

Dream laughed, letting go of Tommy’s arm, stepping back, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, but you won’t. Look at me, I’m weaponless, _powerless_ , as you said yourself. But you won’t kill me. Even if you could, you wouldn’t.”

Tommy cradled his wrist close to his chest as echoes of pain continued to spark through it. He lifted his head to glare up at Dream. “Yeah, you’re right. Do you know why I wouldn’t? Because I’m leaving this prison in a—”

Stars burst behind Tommy’s eyes as one of Dream’s heavy boots impacted his jaw, snapping his neck to the side and sending him toppling to the ground. He lay there for a moment, shocked into stillness, before slowly rolling onto his stomach and pushing himself to his knees. Blood dribbled from his mouth, which pounded with relentless pain. He could already feel his jaw starting to swell.

Tommy cried out as a second kick, this one aimed at his chest, sent him back to the ground, filling the cell with a sickening crack and driving the air from his lungs. He curled in on himself, coughing weakly, trying to catch his breath, trying to ignore the burn in his wrist and neck and ribs, the terror that clawed at his chest and heart and throat. Every inhale sent waves of sharp pain burning through his lungs, every cough a blinding stab of white-hot agony. He shut his eyes, trying to hold back the salty tears that welled in them.

“‘I could kill you if I wanted to,’” Dream quoted mockingly, his lip curling into a contemptuous sneer as he stared down at Tommy’s prone form. “‘I could kill you right now.’”

This was shameful, humiliating, the fact that he was letting himself be cowed by just a few blows.

He couldn’t just lie here.

He had to get up.

Tommy set his hands against the ground and pushed himself slowly, laboriously, to his feet. This time, Dream let him up, watching his pained movements with a bored lift of an eyebrow.

Tommy's breaths came in quick, shallow gasps as he tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He was hunched over, one arm cradling his ribs, the other braced against the wall. But... he was fine. Everything was going to be okay. Dream was trapped here and he would be trapped here forever. Once Tommy got out he would never have to see him again, never have to think about him again. He could say what he wanted, do what he wanted, and he would be fine. 

“I’m not scared of you, Dream,” he managed to grit out. “I’m not scared of you because I know you’re in this prison. And when I get out, and I _will_ get out, I’ll be fine. You? You’re stuck in here forever.” Dream was silent. It was a silence that pushed Tommy to continue. "The revive book isn’t fucking real. I know it isn’t fucking real. Schlatt? He’s dead. I’ve seen his grave, his grave is real, his corpse is there. If he could control life he wouldn’t have fucking died, okay? I know you're a liar and I know you lied about the fucking book.”

Dream stared at Tommy for a moment that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Tommy cringed back instinctively as he opened his mouth, but when he spoke his tone lacked any of the venom he had expected to hear, his words lacked the bite he had expected to feel. “Okay,” was all Dream said.

“Okay?” Tommy cried, throwing his arms up, pushing himself from the wall, taking a few shaky steps towards Dream. His chest ached in protest. “I tell you that and you have the fucking _audacity_ to say nothing but ‘okay?’ Is this some sort of a fucking joke to you? Is this—”

There was a hand around his throat.

He hadn’t even seen Dream move, but now his hand was around Tommy's throat, crushing his windpipe, and his fingers were digging into the flesh of his neck, and before Tommy could do anything his back had been slammed harshly against the obsidian wall, driving all the remaining air from his lungs and leaving him stunned from the shock of the impact and the pain it had sent through his ribs. Dream lifted his arm, pulling Tommy up along the wall until his feet were just barely scrabbling against the ground.

“Okay, Tommy,” Dream hissed, and _there_ was the burning venom, the heart-stopping rage, the terrifying promise of future pain. “Why don’t you go tell Schlatt that yourself?”

Tommy thrashed against the wall, choking for breath, clawing desperately at Dream’s hand. His ribs screamed, sending waves of agony through his chest. Dark spots crowded the corners of his vision. A dull roar started in his ears, building into a deafening crescendo. His eyes bugged out. Dream’s grip tightened. 

Tommy’s struggles weakened. 

His hand loosened from where it was clutching at Dream’s. It fell to his side.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

The words sounded quiet. They echoed in Tommy’s ears as though he were hearing them through a long tunnel.

The grip around his throat let up and Tommy crumpled to the ground, his oxygen-starved limbs unable to support his own weight. He felt, in an oddly detached sort of way, as his body was shoved roughly from where it had slid against the wall and into a prone position on the obsidian floor. Dream crouched over him, tangling one hand in his hair, pulling his head up, then slamming it into the ground with all the might he could muster.

Tommy’s ears rang as his vision was overtaken by a burst of blinding stars. Bloody teeth skittered across the cell floor. Tears spilled down his cheeks — he didn't know when they had started to fall — mixing with the blood that poured from his nose and mouth, pooling onto the ground around him.

Dream repeated the motion, and as Tommy’s head cracked into the ground again he could almost feel the fractures that splintered through his skull.

He wanted to cry out, to scream at Dream to stop, to call out to Sam or Phil for help, but he couldn’t breathe, not past the pain in his lungs and the bruises around his throat and the blood in his mouth.

This time, when his head was pulled up, the hand tangled in it simply let go. Tommy was too weak to do anything but let his head rebound against the harsh obsidian floor, but afterward, there was a pause. There was a respite. He allowed himself to believe that it was over, that Dream had tired of this torment and was going to, at least temporarily, leave him be.

His vision cleared just enough for him to see the heavy leather sole of Dream’s boot moments before it impacted his head.

His nose shattered instantly beneath the force and weight behind the blow and it only took a moment before he registered the blinding, agonising pain. He hadn’t recovered enough to even scream. Dream lifted his foot and brought it down a second time. The cell was again filled with the sickening crunch of fracturing bone. His remaining teeth came loose, caving inwards, burying themselves into the flesh of his mouth and throat, choking him. The pain, already immeasurable, somehow managed to intensify.

Tommy’s breaths came in shallow, gurgling gasps. Blood continued to dribble from his mouth, from his nose. He was too weak to even try to move as Dream stomped on his head again. This time, his skull gave way. Splinters of bone dug into his brain. There was one last flash of burning, all-consuming agony, and then…

_TommyInnit was murdered by Dream._

**Author's Note:**

> lmao he fuckin dead
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated!
> 
> i have a [discord server](https://discord.gg/p7hCE9wxKP) and a [twitter](https://twitter.com/cursewormm) if you wanna interact more with me or other dream smp fans


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